


Cry for Absolution

by Crims0nandCl0ver



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Angst, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Corporal Punishment, Depression, Discipline, Domestic Discipline, F/M, Friendship, Light BDSM, Past Abuse, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Spanking, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29941665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crims0nandCl0ver/pseuds/Crims0nandCl0ver
Summary: A woman with a dark past lives the life of a Sister of Sin, not always abiding by the rules. Cardinal Copia tries to help the young woman come to terms with her past but also keep her in line at the same time. Friendships, porn, light comedy, relationship building. *If this was a movie trailer there would be some kind of explosion here.*
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Original Female Character(s), Cardinal Copia/Reader
Kudos: 9





	1. Nevermore Apple Core.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction so be kind and enjoy. It is an ongoing work.

You wake suddenly sat bolt upright with a fuzzy head, sweating and gasping for water. Your mouth dry and head thumping from the heavy drinking the night before. Relieved at least you are no longer trapped in your nightmares which plague your mind almost every night, horrendous memories from your past. You relax back into your pillow and roll to reach for the glass tankard you keep on your bedside table. Empty. You let out a groan and sit at the edge of your bed and rub your face as your pajama shorts-clad legs dangle over the side. You still wear last night’s dark eye make up which is now spread onto the knuckles of your fingers and wipe underneath both eyes to remove the now smudged mascara. You did at least remember to take out your contact lens even if you were not kind enough to yourself to top up your water glass. The wooden floor creaks and is cold on your bare feet as you rise to them and shuffle to your ensuite bathroom, grabbing your tankard on the way. As you fill it with cold water you look in the mirror, admiring how flattering you look with the smudged makeup from the night before and the major case of bedhead your long jet-black hair has acquired through the night. “The mild hangover will pass” you think to yourself as you quickly drink all the water in your glass and place it down on the back of the sink and begin to brush your teeth. The coolness of the room has instantly eased your fuzzy head and you smugly smile as yet again you have gotten away with a night of sneaking down to the village and hustling pool. It was quite the money maker for you last night. Today is an easy day – the morning sermon, confessional, duties and study. No one will ever notice how groggy you are. You place in your contact lens, run your fingers through your messy hair and turn to exit the bathroom intent on having another twenty minutes in bed before you need to get dressed and ready for this morning’s sermon.

The feeling of dread falls over you with the sight that greets you as you re-enter your room. Sister Imperator, Papa III and Cardinal Copia all stand in the doorway, each of their faces painted with a mixture of anger and disappointment. They fully enter the room and Sister slams your door shut so the curious eyes of the small crowd which has gathered in the hallway can’t see or hear what this ambush is for. You greet them.  
“Sister, Papa, Cardinal. To what do I owe this extreme pleasure of your companies?”  
But you know your charm rarely works on them in these situations.  
“Sister Alison. In the village again last night, yes? Hustling pool again last night, yes?” Sister Imperator says in an uncharacteristically calm manner.  
“Drinking heavily, Alison. You know you can’t run away from your problems like this.” Papa III is concerned about you as always as he sits on your desk, his always shining shoes coming to rest on your desk chair. Ordinarily he could be a real sleaze to the Sisters but not to you, the only person to turn down his advances, he had an aspect of sympathy and respect for you. He had never spoken to you about your past, but he had heard the gossip floating around from the Sisters he had spent evenings with and had seen your files clumsily left on the Cardinal’s desk and understood why you tick the way you tick.  
You look to the Cardinal in his red suit, stood arms folded, beside Sister Imperator. He says nothing but his face, concerned and disappointed, in turn makes you feel disappointed in yourself. Not because you had yet again been caught out - but because you had let him down. Your therapy with the Cardinal had been helping you improve. You had promised after he had given hours of his time weekly to council you and to listen to you and comfort you when you needed that you would behave. All you needed to do was stick to your routines, sermons, duties, studies and not dance with the danger outside of the grounds. You can’t stand the look on his face and instead look to the ground.  
“Sister!” Imperator sharply snaps you from your guilt and the hard reality of your actions set in. “You will respond when your superiors speak to you.”  
“Yes Sister. Yes Papa. I know. I didn’t think..”  
The Sister interrupts “..that you’d get caught? We suspected you’d been sneaking out again. One of the Ghouls spied you coming back drunk at 3am. Around the time the bars shut.”  
“Sister, anything could have happened to you. Why do you continue to disobey us, eh?” Papa III leans his arms forward onto his knees and stares you in the eyes, the sympathy wiped from his face and the severity of the situation fully becoming a realization. “You need somewhere to live, we give you this. You need council we give it to you. You have everything you could want here, food, clothes, alcohol, music, yet still you go play the snookers to swindle money. Eventually you will be arrested again or worse - swindle the wrong person and get hurt. Help us understand, Sister. Why do you do this?”  
You shift on your feet.  
“I guess.. the thrill? The thrill of the danger, the thrill of being caught.”  
Copia sighs and runs his gloved hand down his face. You look to the floor again.  
Sister Imperitor lets out a smug quiet chuckle. “Well you got one of those wishes. You got caught. AGAIN. We’ve already discussed the consequences of your actions with Papa II.”  
A cold feeling swarms the pit of your gut.  
“Papa II..? Seriously? You’ve got to be kidding. For this? Going out and having a good time? I thought you were all about sin?”  
Copia breaks his silence. “Putting yourself in danger is not the way.”  
You knew what was coming. Papa II was infamous for strict and harsh punishments for people who continually disobeyed the rules. Anyone who left Papa II’s quarters after repeated offences had the flesh on their backs cut open by the whips he kept on display in his glass cabinet and they never offended again.  
“No I’m not going. I’ll do extra duties. Take all of the things out of my room and leave me in here on my own for weeks like last time. Ration my food. I am a grown woman and I am not going to his quarter." You desperately try to bargain.  
“When you joined us you had nowhere, escaping a tragic life we took you in and in exchange signed a contract with us. You are bound to us and our rules and when you break those rules you suffer the consequences.” Imperator matter-of-factly states.  
“..and you will suffer..” Papa III mutters as he shakes his head.  
The Cardinal turns away, arms folded and hand on his chin.  
“Perhaps..” he thinks out loud. “instead of jumping the gun here and sending Sister Alison to Papa II..” he turns to face you “..I could try a different.. technique, si?” He rolls his hand.  
“Well I don’t really think..” Sister Imperator scoffs.  
“Hold on there Sister.” Papa III interjects with a mouth full of crisp apple he is eating from your fruit bowl, with the hand not holding the core pointing at the Cardinal. He swallows. “He may be onto something.”  
Sister Imperitor’s face gets redder by the second. She hates being overruled and it has happened on more than this occasion concerning you, Papa III and the Cardinal. She hates them having a soft spot for you and she shows this in her daily behavior towards you. She takes a deep breath out.  
“Fine. My efforts are evidently redundant here. I will inform Papa II that his.. work.. is not needed. I will see you at the sermon.”  
She turns on her heels and storms out of the room, dispersing the crowd outside. The dread in you now easing as her clicking footsteps distance down the hallway. Papa III finds this amusing and smiles.  
Copia pushes the palm of his hand into his forehead. “Ayyyy the sermon. And I have confessional this morning.”  
Papa III throws his apple core towards your bin and misses. He shrugs. “No problemo, I’ll cover you.” He dusts his hands together and climbs off your desk. “I love confessional, hearing what all those naughty ladies have been getting up to anyway.”  
Papa III cockily strolls towards your door. He turns and points at you, looking at Copia. “Don’t be too hard on her. She is.. a rare one, this one. Si.." He points his fingers at you, making the motion of firing a gun and winks as he leaves.

The silence in the room is deafening. In your counselling sessions with the Cardinal there had sometimes been periods of silence but it has never felt awkward before. You felt friendly with the Cardinal at points the past few months. He had done a great deal to help you and defend you and you had let him down greatly. You stand frozen to the spot trying to read the Cardinal’s face. He looks to the wall, you can see his mind is turning over. After what feels like hours of shuffling on your feet you decide to speak.  
“So..”  
“Alison, get dressed and meet me in my quarters please.” He interrupts. “If you are not there in fifteen minutes I will send two of my Ghouls to escort you down there, understood?”  
He did not refer to you as ‘Sister’ as everyone here does. He dropped that title a few sessions in to your counselling, as he got to know the inner workings of you and only ever uses it now in the company of others. He is still not looking you in the eye. You have a lump in your throat and don’t respond. He sees you understand and, hands behind his back, turns and walks out of your room.  
You collapse onto your bed, a sigh of relief leaves your mouth but immediately the lump in your throat returns. You don’t care that you’ve annoyed Imperator, you don’t care that Papa III has yet again had to defend your actions. You do care that you have shown the Cardinal up. You snap yourself out of the feeling and robotically get dressed into your habit. You look at yourself in the mirror, flatten out the creases on your black habit with your hands and take a deep breath. 

As you leave your room, you pick up Papa III’s discarded apple core and place it gently in the bin.


	2. The Discovery.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have been summoned to Cardinal Copia's quarters in lieu of a visit to Papa II.

You take your time through the halls, slow enough to hold off seeing the disappointed Cardinal but not slow enough to prompt him to order his Ghouls to collect you. You don’t want to anger him further. As you walk towards the stone arches of the sermon room you see Sister Imperator stood authoritatively outside and seemingly ignoring your approach. You hear the loud gossip of the Sisters inside, your name hot on their tongues. You choose to take a right to avoid being seen by them and hurry your steps to compensate the detour. Approaching the Cardinal’s quarters the halls are silent. You smell incense in the air, it relaxes you as the subtle fragrance fills your lungs. Cardinal Copia often burns it during your counselling and meetings, and it has grown to give you a feeling of security and comfort. As you approach the door to his quarters you take a deep breath in an attempt to slow your now rapid beating heart.  
You give a light knock on his door. No answer. You knock louder.

“Alison?”  
“Yes Cardinal it’s me.”  
“Ah si, enter.”  
You push the heavy wooden door and it lets out a creak as you open and close it behind you. The Cardinal is sat at his desk near the opulent stained-glass windows writing in his files, not looking up. As you stand by the door you wonder if they’re yours. The Cardinal looks up from his work with a slightly perplexed look on his face.  
“Come in, come in.”  
During your regular meetings you’d both gotten used to you walking in without knocking, striding over to the armchair you have grown so comfortable sitting in and casually lounging in it ready to start talking. On this occasion you have been cautious, respectful, and you are taken back that the Cardinal expected otherwise. Maybe you should relax a bit. You walk over to your usual chair but before you can sit the Cardinal taps his pen on his desk.  
“No no no. You stand please, Alison.”  
Maybe you shouldn’t relax a bit.  
“I am just finishing, give me a moment.” He looks back down at his papers, scribbling his notes.  
As you stand in your place not daring to move, you look around the room admiring the artwork on the walls you have viewed many times before, the black leather Chaise Lounge you sometimes lay on and curl up in a ball when you get boxed in your own thoughts, the ornate chairs dotted around the room, one with the Cardinal’s trademark cane he often carries resting against the arm.  
“Okie dokie.” The Cardinal bangs his papers on their sides, straightening them into a neat pile.  
He clasps his hands on his desk, takes a deep breath and looks at you dead in the eye. It is the first time he has done this today. You don’t dare to break eye contact.  
“Alison. What shall I do with you?”  
“Cardinal please let me apologize. I was selfish and had a moment of weakness.” You had been rehearsing this speech for the duration of your walk to his quarters.  
“Alison. We have been through this too many times before. The apologies, the self-hate, the excuses. It seems you have this speech rehearsed.”  
Fuck. Time for the words to come from the heart.  
“I. I don’t know what to say Cardinal. I guess thank you for saving me from Papa II. From Imperator. Only you understand.”  
“I understand nothing, Alison!” He booms and slams his hand down on his desk as you flinch.  
“I want you to though.” You squeak out, your eyes welling up with tears and your throat closing from the upset.  
“These are.. alligator tears, si.”  
“Crocodile.” You correct.  
“Si si, bene, excuse me - crocodile tears.”  
He leans back in his chair, fingers linked above his head.  
“Alison I need to try something. I can’t let you leave without punishment. That would be foolish, and you will surely be sent to Papa II if Sister Imperator discovers you had been let off with warning again. I cannot bear the thought of Papa II hurting you and tearing your beautiful flesh. You do not deserve such cruelty after the already cruel life you have led.”

Buried in that statement is a confirmation of something you had always desperately craved your entire life – someone in this world cared for you. And it was not from your father, your mother, or a sexual partner but the Cardinal you had many times confided in with your stories of abuse and self-abuse. It was like a release and you couldn’t help but let out a subtle smile.

“Cardinal I..”  
The Cardinal leans forward, shakes his head and raises his index finger to stop you from speaking. Your smile stops dead in its tracks. He stands from his desk and carefully removes his jacket, gently draping it over the back of his chair. He straightens his waistcoat and begins to unbutton the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them up his muscular forearms to his elbows. He clears his throat.  
“As I say, I cannot just.. let you off. So I will punish you. Not as severely as Papa II would. But enough to know you have learnt a lesson today.” He strides over to one of the black wooden chairs to the side of you with purpose and sits down, legs slightly apart and lightly taps his right thigh with his gloved hand a couple of times.  
“Please lay across my lap.”  
You stare at him with what must be a bewildered look on your face. He repeats the tapping motion on his thigh.  
“I will not say please again. Over my lap.”  
You let out a gasped laugh. “You can’t be serious..?”  
Silence.  
“As I said earlier, Cardinal.. I am a grown woman. I will not be treated like a child.”  
The Cardinal calmly stares at you.  
“If you behave like the child I will punish you like the child. Now place yourself over my knee or I will have to send you to Papa II, si.”  
You take a moment for your options to sink in as the Cardinal waits for your response. Your face flushes as you realize you must take this punishment. Reluctantly and curiously, you step towards the Cardinal and he holds out his arms in an offer to help you across his lap, his eyes piercing into yours. You bend over his knees and he guides your arms in front of you so you are as good as helpless to protect yourself.  
“Are you comfortable there?” his gentle voice asks.  
“Err. Yes.” You dumbfoundedly reply, not knowing what to expect.  
He raises the skirt of your habit and you feel your face heating. Was this for his own pleasure or part of the punishment to humiliate you?  
“Alison I am going to spank you on your bare bottom.” He declares as he carefully pulls down your panties and lets out a subtle sigh. You imagine he hasn’t seen much skin during his time here. There were never rumors of the Cardinal from the other women, only Papa III and occasionally Papa II and the Ghouls.  
You don’t respond. Laying there, bare ass on display, you feel the Cardinal tugging on something at your side. He isn’t..? No, he isn’t. You hear the clicking of the buckle of his belt as he undoes it and removes it from the belt loops of his tailored trousers, folding it in half and passes it to you. You hold it in both hands.  
“Alison you will look at this while I discipline you and know that next time you will be lashed with this instead of my gloved hand, si?”  
“Yes Cardinal.” The defeat in your voice now strong.  
“Okie dokie, I will start your spanking now.” The Cardinal says confidently as he rests his left hand between your shoulder blades.  
The anticipation is killing you. There is an excitement growing in you just as strong as the dread.  
SMACK.  
You jump from the shock of the sharp sting and he holds you down firmer.  
“You do not disobey.”  
SMACK.  
“Do you understand this now?”  
SMACK.  
“Yes Cardinal.”  
SMACK.  
“Bene.”  
SMACK.  
The stinging increasing with every smack.. and also an arousal.  
SMACK.  
You stare at the Cardinal’s belt in your hands.  
SMACK.  
You can feel yourself getting wet.  
SMACK.

The rhythmic firm spanking continues for some time before it ends, and you stop holding your breath. You lay across the Cardinal’s knee confused at your humiliation and yet also.. delight. Not daring to move as you both pant. For a moment he caresses your sore bare ass before pulling your panties up and takes his belt from your hands.  
“You may stand.”  
You slowly rise from his lap, feeling a wetness between your legs from your unexpected arousal during the punishment. As you stand you realize the front of your habit has caught on itself and quickly fix it before the Cardinal sees the damp patch soaked into your panties.  
The Cardinal stands, looping his belt in his trousers and buckling it in silence. He looks at you.  
“Alison I think it is best you stay here in my quarters for a few days so I can.. keep eyes on you?”  
“Keep an eye on you.” You whisper feeling thoroughly put in your place.  
“Si, keep an eye on you. Collect your belongings and return.” He walks over to his desk. You’re sure you catch a glimpse of a bulge in the front of his trousers as he turns to sit in his chair. Surely he can’t have been turned on by that too?  
You don’t say a word and retreat to the door, hurrying to go back to your room and compose yourself.  
“Oh and Alison..” The Cardinal lifts his head from the papers he has started to once again scribble on.  
“Yes Cardinal?”  
“Don’t pretend I didn’t see that.” He gestures towards your lower half.  
“I.. pardon?” Had he seen how wet he had made you?  
“The scars on your thighs. Self-harm, si?” He looked concerned.  
You don’t reply. You are ashamed of how weak you feel sometimes and had avoided talking to him about the deep self-inflicted cuts you wore on your skin that you normally did so well to hide from the world.  
“Si. We will talk when you return.” He bows his head back into his work and you slip out of the door quietly.


End file.
